Metamorphosis
by Xirysa
Summary: Post FE7, pre FE6. It's not what it seems.


**Xirysa Says:** Something or the other that's based on familial issues. Don't look into it or anything, but read if you feel like it.

* * *

Metamorphosis

-x-x-x-

_it's not what it seems_

-x-x-x-

The sun was setting, the last few rays of light burning the horizon a brilliant red, when she first told him what she thought—but did not dare believe—was true.

"I think I am expecting," Lyndis said. Her words were simple, straightforward, to the point. There was no emotion in her speech, except for a very slight lilt her voice took on whenever she became excited about something. "Again."

Kent turned to face her. They were standing by the small fence he had put around their home during their first few months on the plains. "Are… you sure?"

She nodded. "It has been three months since it last came," she told him.

Kent nodded. He turned away from her to watch the sun as it sank further and further behind the horizon, lost in his thoughts. Her voice quickly brought him back to reality, away from memories of blue skies and a father who once knew how to smile. He turned towards her once again.

"Do you think it… Do you think, Kent, that this time…?" Her voice trailed off, but he did not miss the hope, the _yearning_, in it.

He wrapped his arms around Lyndis. "I don't know," he whispered into her hair, "I really don't."

The sun finally sank behind the horizon in a bloody swirl of color, and the plains were awash in darkness.

-x-x-x-

A few weeks later, a small bulge could be seen beneath Lyndis's clothing. That alone was enough to make a smile—something Kent hadn't seen in forever, it seemed—appear on her face whenever her hand rested on her slightly protruding belly.

Kent loved seeing her like this. After all the things that Lyndis had been through, watching her smile and laugh and find so much joy in everything seemed like a blessing.

One day, he found her outside kneeling by the fire pit, where all their meals were cooked during the warmer seasons, laughing softly to herself as she cut up some vegetables to add to the pot.

He sat down beside her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "What's so funny?"

She blushed—something else he hadn't seen her do in a long time—and shook her head. "Nothing."

Kent nodded and leaned back, watching Lyndis intently. After a few moments, she set down her knife and looked at him.

"I can feel him sometimes," she said, her hand resting on her stomach.

He covered her hand with his. "Him?"

Lyndis nodded. "I'm almost certain it's a boy." She closed her eyes. "Yes, a boy. I think he would look like you."

"Oh?" He looked at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And what makes you say that?"

"Because I'd look terrible as a boy."

Kent smiled openly, now. "You would," he said, and he ducked when she swatted at him playfully. They sat together on the ground for a few minutes, watching the fire, until he spoke again. "What does it feel like?"

She shook her head. "You'd laugh if I told you."

"No," he said, "I wouldn't. Come on, tell me."

"…Fine," she said. "I'll tell you." She shifted so that she was leaning against him with her back to his chest; he wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her belly. "Promise me you won't laugh."

"Don't worry," he said, and kissed the skin behind her ear, "I won't."

Lyndis looked thoughtfully at the ground and remained silent for so long, Kent was afraid that she wasn't going to tell him. "It feels… Like butterflies dancing."

"Butterflies," Kent said. He held her closer. "That… Sounds wonderful."

She smiled.

-x-x-x-

On the night of the black moon, Lyndis gave birth to a skeleton. Even in the darkness of the night, its bones shone bright white.

Its empty eye sockets looked at her. Its bony hand wrapped around her finger. Its mouth opened and cried for her breast with a baby's voice.

Kent looked at the baby—looked at _her_—with disgust. "That is not my child," he said. "That demon is not mine."

And Lyndis looked at Kent pleadingly as the skeleton child suckled—demon or not, it was her child, and she had to feed it. "Please, Kent," she said, though she didn't know what she was pleading for. "Please."

But Kent refused to look at her. He walked past her, out the door, out of her life.

Suddenly, the house was on fire. Lyndis could hear Kent's voice over the roar of the flame.

"Witch!" he yelled. "Take your demon child back to hell!"

Lyndis sat on the floor of the house with the skeleton child crying in her arms as Kent watched them burn to ash.

And then she woke up.

Kent was leaning over her, concern etched into the line on his face—had those lines always been there?

"Lyndis," he said, "Lyndis, what's wrong?"

She shook her head and turned over, feigning sleep. Kent watched her for a few more minutes; she could feel his eyes on her. But soon he too laid back down on their bed and fell asleep.

Lyndis, however, did not sleep the rest of that night. She turned so that she was facing Kent and watched his sleeping face as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

-x-x-x-

"The stream is nearly dried up," Kent told her one evening. "Whatever is left must be used sparingly."

Lyndis nodded, never taking her eyes off her sewing—a smock and a pair of slippers for the baby.

"We have enough food to last for a while," he continued, "but we mustn't give up. We _can_ do it, Lyndis."

She knew he wasn't talking about the drought that was settling over the land.

-x-x-x-

She woke up one morning to find herself in his arms.

"G'morning," she muttered.

He kissed her forehead. "He woke me up in the middle of the night, you know."

Blinking sleepily, Lyndis shifted so that she was closer to Kent. "Oh, really?"

Kent nodded. "Yes. Your son is quite energetic."

Lyndis smiled as she felt something move in her abdomen. "Well, _your_ son seems to have heard you." She groaned a little when she felt a particularly strong blow. "At least you don't have to put up with this nearly all the time," she said.

Chuckling, Kent put a hand on her belly. "You're not complaining, are you?" he asked.

"Definitely not."

-x-x-x-

"I can't feel him kicking any more," Lyndis said one day. "It's frightening me."

Kent shook his head. "Don't worry," he told her. "It is probably nothing." He smiled at her. "Perhaps the butterflies are resting."

She nodded, but Kent still noticed the worry in her eyes.

-x-x-x-

It was a trickle at first; a tiny stream of red that ran down her leg, so small she didn't notice it until she saw a stain on her skirt.

And then she knew.

"K-kent!" Lyndis screamed. "Kent!"

And it seemed that he was at her side instantly, carrying her into the house, setting her gently on the bed.

Then he was running, searching for buckets and old pieces of cloth, cursing when he couldn't get a fire going to boil the water they couldn't afford to waste.

She was bleeding more, now. So much blood…

Kent was beside her again, wiping the perspiration from her brow, holding her hand, telling her _it'll be all right_…

But Lyndis was trying not to scream as her child emerged into a world it would never see.

(And the blood, there was so much of it, too much of it…)

Lyndis was moaning, now. "No more, no more," she said, "no more babies."

Kent could feel his heart breaking.

And as suddenly as it had started, it was done; Kent wrapped the grey misshapen child in a cloth and carried it from the room.

The sky was darkening as he stepped out of the house. Lightning flashed and, in the distance, Kent heard the rumble of thunder.

He dug a hole beneath the apple tree and placed the small body in it.

"Sleep well, child," Kent whispered before kneeling down and covering the hole with dirt. As he finished, the rain began to fall, and Kent never figured out whether it was water or tears running down his face that day as he walked back to the house.

Their small home seemed so silent an small without the wailing of a newborn child, Kent thought dimly as he made his way to the bedroom. When he entered, Lyndis was still lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling with hollow eyes.

"It was a boy," she whispered as the tears ran down her face. "My baby was a boy, wasn't he?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said.

Lyndis closed her eyes. "I knew it."

Outside, the rain pattered delicately against the walls of the house.

-x-x-x-

* * *

**Xirysa Says:** Aside from the portions where I became terribly lazy, this was really, really fun to write. Like, insanely so. There were about three endings I was going to pick from, until I finally decided on this one. BUT. I might write one (or maybe even both) of the alternate endings I was going to do. So yeah. Oh, and speaking of endings... The lord of BS comes back! BWAHAHAHA. That being said, feedback and opinions would be appreciated. Thanks again for reading!


End file.
